SkinWalker and Albion
by White Mizerable
Summary: Arthur Kirkland and Alfred Jones- two mutants with a bad history. But now Alfred is back, and they're both going to have to learn how to deal with it. X-Men crossover. USUK. Updated irregularly.
1. Chapter 1: Hero

The street seemed to swim before him, rolling and pulsing along with the ache in Arthur's mind. But even as his focus wavered, he forced himself to remain airborne, refusing to dip further down towards the road. The pain shooting through his side was overwhelming. He was pushing himself and his powers far beyond his limits, and he knew it, but he could not stop. To touch down there, in the middle of this battlefield of a city street, would mean certain death, both for him and his teammate. Matthew was counting on him. Arthur faltered in midair, his feet sinking down to only inches above the broken pavement. He struggled to fly higher. His brain pounded with the stress of using so much power. If only he could rest, just for a few moments-

"Arthur, look out!"

Arthur spun towards the sound of Matthew's voice, raising his arms to throw up a shield as quickly as he could. It wasn't enough. The force of Strafe's lightning sent him tumbling backwards, his whole body screaming with pain as he fought both to keep himself in the air and to hold his shield steady. Without it, he knew he would already have been dead. Pressure built up inside of him, demanding to be released, his arms shook, his teeth clenched, his heartbeat pounded a deafening tempo in his ears.

His back struck the brick wall with a sickening crunch, and he cried out as a wave of agony leaped up his spine. He slid down the wall to land in a crumpled pile of limbs on the sidewalk below it. The remnants of his shield flickered and died. Every ache, every wound, seemed to swell in intensity, and the simple action of lifting his head felt as though he was trying to raise a boulder.

"So this is it?" Strafe's heavily accented voice echoed around the street. "This is all that the great Albion can offer? I am disappointed." The soft click of polished boots as he landed upon the ruined asphalt was nearly drowned out by the roar of the flames his lightning had caused, burning away in abandoned cars and buildings.

Lifting his head as high as he could, Arthur pressed his trembling hands to the ground and tried to shove himself onto his feet. He barely raised himself an inch or two before falling back again. His powers flickered dimly in the back of his mind, demanding that he channel more energy through his body, but he was too weak to even consider it. Still, he scowled at Strafe, summoning all of his anger and determination into his glare. He did not dignify the man with an answer.

Strafe snorted and strode forward. "Magneto said you would be a challenge." He grabbed the front of Arthur's uniform, lifting him up off the ground until his feet dangled in midair. "I could crush you so easily."

"Do it, then," Arthur snarled. His hands clutched at Strafe's through the material of both of their gloves. He had not expected to die here, not like this, but if that was to be the case, he was not going to do so with his head bowed.

"Arthur!" Matthew's desperate yell drew Arthur's eyes over Strafe's shoulder, back down the ruined street to where the younger mutant was struggling against both of Strafe's partners, Shinigami and Angeli. Matthew's body faded in and out of sight as he moved, but Shinigami's incredible speed and flexibility stopped him from escaping, and the more violent of Angeli's two personalities kept forcing him into the open with their blinding glow. Arthur's powers tried to surge forth again, yet all he managed to channel was a simple spark from the tips of his fingers, which did not even penetrate Strafe's thick gloves.

"Don't try to help your friend," Strafe warned him, shaking him slightly where he still dangled in the air. Arthur sneered at him. These would be his last moments, he thought, held helplessly above the ground in the grasp of a ruthless mutant. Yet Strafe didn't kill him right away. He hesitated, staring up into Arthur's face. "It does not need to end this way," he said slowly. "If you would only see the truth, and join our cause-"

"Never," said Arthur, his grip tightening around Strafe's wrists.

Strafe's expression hardened. "Then you leave me no choice." His blue eyes flashed with light, and Arthur watched as it coursed down along the side of his neck, beneath the collar of his uniform, shooting towards his own body to electrocute him. Arthur held his head high and waited for the end.

But it never came. Instead, there came the sound of hooves, and the snarl of a wild cat, and then Strafe was being knocked aside, lightning shooting up into the air. Arthur fell heavily back to the ground. He stared, eyes wide, at the mountain lion tearing at Strafe's torso and legs. It weaved and dodged as Strafe attempted to shock it, displaying far too much intelligence for a simple beast. Arthur's breath caught in his throat. If it was not just a lion, that would mean-

Strafe groaned when sharp claws managed to hook into his leg, and down the road Angeli whirled at the sound. "Ludwig!" they yelled in the gentler personality's voice. The unnatural glow faded, and Matthew took the opportunity to vanish completely, sending Shinigami's next strike wild.

"No, stay focused!" Strafe barked, grasping at the fur on the back of the mountain lion's neck and heaving the creature away from himself. Its claws screeched across the asphalt. Strafe didn't spare a glance at his bloody leg, and lifted himself back up into the air, keeping his gaze focused on the lion on the ground below him.

All Arthur could focus on was the mountain lion. Strafe and Angeli and Shinigami faded into the background. Even the pain of his wounds seemed to disperse. This was it. If that lion was not just a lion, as Arthur thought- as Arthur almost knew it was not, _he_ would have to change again. _He_ would have to reveal himself.

And he did. The mountain lion lunged forward, leaping into the air. As its front legs lifted off the ground, they shifted, widened, flattened out. Golden brown fur entwined to form inky feathers. The lion's muzzle sharpened into a beak, ears vanishing into the white feathers that sprouted atop its head. Hind legs and paws became crooked talons, and the long, flexible feline tail spread out into glossy tail feathers. But it was the eyes that caught Arthur's own stare- eyes, which should have been the gold of a raptor, were shockingly, heart wrenchingly blue.

The eagle screeched, voice piercing through Arthur's mind, and dove at Strafe. The air around them quickly became a tangled mess of electricity and feathers and blood. Arthur couldn't make out who was winning, or whose blood it was that kept dripping down to the pavement. He forced himself into a seated position, resting his back against the wall and wincing at pain that flared through his body again at the movement. His mind called for him to channel enough power to heal himself, but he was just too tired. He fought to keep himself from falling over onto his side.

A pair of hands seized his arm, and Arthur immediately lashed out at the owner with whatever strength he had left. Matthew flickered into view in front of him. "Arthur," he said, voice quiet and soothing, "you're bleeding everywhere. We have to get back to the Institute."

"He's here, Matthew," Arthur hissed, ignoring the younger mutant's words. He clutched at Matthew's arms and stared over his head at the furious tangle of Strafe and the eagle. Beyond them, Angeli and Shinigami seemed to be simply watching and waiting, both unable to fly and unwilling to turn their backs on their ally.

Matthew hesitated. "I know he is." Still, he didn't look up at the airborne battle. "But he's not our main priority right now. You are. Can you heal yourself at all?"

Arthur shook his head slowly. "I've used too much power already." He looked down at himself. Blood was pooling around him, seeping through the fabric of his uniform. The sight made him dizzy.

"I don't know if I can carry you," Matthew said. His voice was oddly fuzzy, and Arthur lifted his head to stare at him again. The boy's face was swimming, his mouth shaping words that didn't sound like what Arthur was hearing, his violet eyes wide. Arthur parted his lips to say something about it, but instead of laughing, Matthew looked horrified. Arthur felt two hands grab his shoulders and shake them. He couldn't seem to fight them away, no matter how hard he tried to lift his arms.

Then Matthew's eyes weren't violet, but blue, bright and blinding. His lips kept moving, and Arthur couldn't understand a thing. The flickering light of the fires was beginning to dim. Someone called his name, and the world went black.

* * *

><p>Beep.<p>

Arthur cracked one eye open and winced at the vibrant light that shone in. He clenched it shut again.

Beep.

His whole body felt numb. He twitched his fingers experimentally, brushing them along the thin sheets of the bed, and they reacted, but it was almost like his hand was a completely different being to himself. He groaned.

"Ah, Arthur, you're awake."

That voice… Arthur forced both eyes open, squinting, and turned towards the source. Professor Charles Xavier smiled at him from his chair. "You've been out for almost two days. I'm glad you've awoken."

"Two days?" Arthur pushed himself up on his elbows, then struggled to sit upright. His arms shook from disuse, and he would have fallen back to the bed had strong hands not lunged out to catch him. He turned to thank whoever it was- Scott, most likely, maybe Hank or even Ivan.

But it was none of them. Instead, Arthur found himself staring up at a pair of brilliant blue eyes shielded by glasses. He gasped and tried to pull away. "Alfred!"

Alfred at least had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed, though he didn't let go of Arthur's body until he was seated with his back against the headboard. "Hi, Arthur." His voice was deeper than the last time Arthur had heard it, and he realized with a start that it had been over four years since that day.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur demanded. His gaze roved across Alfred's face and body. He was tall now, with broad shoulders, muscular arms, a strong chin dotted with stubble and a heavy brow. One of his ears was pierced. Yet even though most of him was strange and new and mature, Arthur could still see the traces of the boy he used to know. The blue eyes were there, though partially concealed by his glasses, and his hair remained golden blonde. Even the ridiculous little cowlick still stuck up proudly from his part. It made his heart ache with nostalgia.

Though the question was directed at Alfred, it was Professor Xavier who replied. "I apologize, Arthur. I was going to tell you when you returned from scouting." The professor gestured at Alfred. "He came to me three days ago, asking for sanctuary from an agency that has been following him. I was wary at first, understandably, because having him disappear into my institute would attract unwanted attention. But when he showed me the extent his abilities, I knew he would be more of an asset to us than a hindrance."

"I'm one of you now," Alfred added. "A member of the X-Men."

Arthur stared at him. The words, though perfectly sensible, seemed to flow in and out of his brain, unwilling to stick. Alfred, an X-Man? Every time he tried to make sense of it, his mind conjured up the image of the child that Alfred had once been, the sweet and innocent boy who was so proud of his powers. "What?" he said faintly.

Alfred frowned, obviously confused, but the professor only smiled. "Yes, he is now a part of your team. He will be working side by side with you and his brother on your future missions."

"What?" Both of them said it at once, and Arthur cast Alfred a wide-eyed stare only to see it returned to him. He cleared his throat. "Professor, you can't mean-"

"That is exactly what I mean, Arthur," Professor Xavier said firmly. "I know all about your history together, both from what you've told me and what you've allowed me to see. However, I trust that you will be able to put aside your differences for the greater good. Your powers work well together. You have proven it in the past and I have no doubt you will do so again in the future." He held both of them with a sharp look. "You are part of the same team now. I expect you to work together, fight together, and protect each other. Even if you cannot manage to rekindle your friendship, I will not tolerate having you sabotage your own missions because you are both too obstinate to try."

Swallowing heavily, Arthur nodded. He turned to face Alfred, and found that the other mutant was already staring at him. Arthur coughed, feeling his cheeks flush slightly, and looked down at the sheets. "I'll… try, if he does."

"I'll try, too." Alfred's voice sounded hesitant, though, almost awkward, and Arthur was relieved that he was not the only one who felt the tension.

"Very good. I'll see both of you tomorrow morning after breakfast. Make sure Matthew comes along as well. Arthur, get as much rest as you can. Magneto and his forces won't stay away for long, even if they were taken by surprise." Professor Xavier wheeled himself out of the room, the doors shutting with a soft click behind him.

Arthur and Alfred sat in silence for a long moment, a strange, wavering silence that was full of the things they both wanted to say and could not. Finally, Alfred cleared his throat and pushed himself to his feet. "Well, I'd better go. Hank said he had a few things to teach me-"

"Thank you," Arthur blurted.

Alfred froze halfway to the door. "What?"

"For saving me." Arthur scowled down at his hands, then up at Alfred. "Not that I needed it. I could easily have taken on the three of them by myself."

For a few seconds Alfred only stared at him, eyes wide. A grin slowly crept its way across his lips. "Of course. I'll see you tomorrow, Artie." Before Arthur could protest the use of such a ridiculous nickname, Alfred was gone, the doors sliding shut once more.

"Oh hell," said Arthur after a moment. He allowed himself to sink back into the sheets, covering his eyes with the palm of his hands. "Oh hell."

Alfred had certainly grown up, and Arthur had no idea what to do about it.

* * *

><p>AN- Hey look, I'm not dead! Sorry for those who were waiting for a PR update- the USUK community on Livejournal had that big summer camp thing and I decided to participate. Now that it's over, I'll put up the fics on here, just to keep everything tidy and easy to find.

Just a few notes, now. Alfred is Skin-Walker, and his ability involves being able to transform into various different animals- an eagle, coyote, mountain lion, wild mustang, and bison. Arthur is Albion, and his powers allow him to channel magic from the world around him through his body, which he can then manipulate. Matthew is Lutin, and he can appear and disappear at will. Strafe is Ludwig, who can manipulate electricity, Angeli is both Feliciano and Lovino (two souls in one body), who can cast a light powerful enough to see even invisible things, and Shinigami is Kiku, who has super speed and can understand intuitively what an opponent is going to do before they do it.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. The rest of what I've written will be up sometime soon.


	2. Chapter 2: First Aid

Their first mission together was a nothing short of a disaster. It was lucky that Professor Xavier had decided to send Ivan, better known to the world as Rusalka, along with them, or they would not even have managed to complete their goal. Not that Ivan's presence did much to help Alfred focus- the boy was still just as temperamental as ever, and he and Ivan clashed over the simplest of things. When the two of them weren't fighting, Arthur found himself drawn into spats with Alfred as well. The only member of their team that stayed uninvolved was Matthew. When the four of them returned to the Institute, bruised and bloody and absolutely fuming but still having accomplished their assignment, the Professor was not amused.

Arthur had expected to be punished, but he had not expected this. "Professor, are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked. It felt like the one-hundredth time he'd asked during that morning alone.

"Yeah," agreed Alfred from beside him. "Isn't there any other way?" How ironic, Arthur thought, that they would only agree on this.

But Professor Xavier shook his head firmly and continued to roll his chair forwards. "You not only put yourselves in danger yesterday, you also risked the lives of your teammates. Without Ivan's help, it is highly likely that both of you, and Matthew, would have been killed or captured."

"Professor-" Arthur tried again.

"No. You are part of a team now, and I expect you to learn to work together." The Professor drew to a halt in front of a set of doors. Arthur's stomach plummeted at the thought of what lay behind them. They slid open, revealing a large circular room built of some kind of polished metal. It seemed to be completely empty, but Arthur wasn't fooled. He had trained within these walls far too many times to even begin to underestimate the room's capabilities.

Alfred, however, had not. He walked over to one of the walls and rapped on it with his knuckles, expression curious. "What is this place?" he asked over his shoulder. "What's it made of?"

"This is the Danger Room," Professor Xavier replied. "And I would not do that if I were you, Mr. Jones. She doesn't appreciate being poked and prodded at."

"She?" Alfred immediately drew his hand away.

"Yes." The Professor didn't give any more detail, though, instead turning to regard Arthur. "You understand what this room is capable of. I trust you'll explain the necessary details to Alfred?" When Arthur hesitated, the Professor's lips curled downwards into a frown. "The two of you are going to train in here until you've learned how to work together. The sooner you do so, the sooner you will be allowed back out on assignments. But if you intend to fight one another instead of the simulations, you will be spending a lot of time here in the near future."

"Simulations?" Alfred's voice was growing progressively louder. "Is someone going to tell me what's going on here?"

"That is Arthur's responsibility. Good luck to the both of you, and I hope that I will not need to bring you back here tomorrow." With that, Professor Xavier wheeled his chair around and disappeared back out the doors. They slid shut behind him with an ominous click.

"So…" Alfred said after a moment. He shot a pointed look over at Arthur.

Arthur just shook his head. "Prepare yourself."

"Prepare myself? Prepare myself for what?"

And the room burst into life around them. What had before been metallic walls was now a huge cityscape, rife with parked cars and fire hydrants and street signs. Though the sounds of a bustling city surrounded them, there were no people walking the streets. Arthur sighed and channeled a thin stream of power into lifting himself up into the air. "The Danger Room is where we train. She's programmed to be able to hurt us and potentially be impossible to defeat, but she can't kill us. We have to-"

Alfred didn't let him continue. "Holy shit," he said, eyes bright and teeth gleaming in his grin. "This is a million times better than anything they had at that other school. Hologram tech? Stuff this advanced would have to be light-years ahead of our time. It must be alien. Shit, this is so cool!" He passed his hand along the side of one of the buildings. "I can even touch it. Wow. So it makes holographic bad guys, too? Fucking awesome."

"I…" Arthur found himself rendered speechless. This was not the sweet young boy he'd known. Where had Alfred developed such a foul mouth? And to use such crude grammar, too! He refused to acknowledge the part of his mind that was impressed by the hints at Alfred's intelligence. "She prefers to be referred to as a woman," was all he managed to say.

"Sorry, Danger Room!" Alfred called out cheerfully. He stretched out his arms, cracking his knuckles, before settling into a fighting stance. "So when are the big bads coming?"

"Any moment now." Arthur tore his gaze away from the other mutant and stared down the street in front of them. As if on cue, the whole city began to rumble, dust rising from the pavement as the ground shook with heavy footsteps. Alfred staggered back a step. Far ahead of them, a building shuddered and came crashing down into the empty road. Car alarms blared. A streetlamp shattered, glass raining onto the sidewalk. Through the dust and smoke, a huge silhouette began to take shape, becoming clearer with each thundering step forwards.

"What is that? Godzilla?" Alfred asked lowly. He was curled forward, arms extended sideways, hands clawed- the stance of a threatened predator.

Arthur shook his head. "I don't know. She's never created something this large before." He paused for a moment, and then a small smirk crept over his lips as he stared down at his unwanted partner. "I don't think she likes you very much."

Alfred glared at him. "You're saying this is my fault? All because I didn't call the room a fucking lady?"

"You're only digging your hole deeper, boy."

"Shut up."

The creature that approached them, whatever it was, chose that moment to let out a roar, the pitch of which shattered the windows around them and forced Arthur to cover his ears. The gust of wind blew the dust cloud shielding the monster away. Down below him, Arthur heard Alfred swear sharply, and Arthur found he couldn't blame him. The monster was huge, with mottled green skin and hundreds of glowing yellow eyes. Wings, tattered and scarred, were folded tight against its serpentine back. Plumes of smoke rose from its flared nostrils. Arthur's first thought was that it must have been some sort of dragon, but it looked nothing like any dragons he had ever seen. Something about it seemed almost insect-like.

"Hey, Arthur," Alfred called.

"Yes?"

"Tell me you have some plan for beating this thing."

"Not a clue."

"Well, fuck." And then Alfred couldn't say anymore, because a giant segmented claw swiped across the ground towards him. It missed him by a narrow few inches. "Fuck!" He flipped backwards when the claw scratched at him again, his arms extending out and beginning to separate into feathers. Within moments, Arthur was joined midair by a blue-eyed eagle. The bug-dragon roared at them, baring its pincer-like teeth.

"The Danger Room is really outdoing herself this time," Arthur muttered. He ignored Alfred's indignant screech, instead focusing on pushing himself higher up into the air, away from the monster below them. Alfred followed. Down on the street, the bug-dragon watched with its numerous eyes, its own wings fluttering against its back. Arthur nearly sighed in relief. Those wings would never be able to lift such a massive creature into the air.

However, the Danger Room seemed to have different plans. Where only seconds before, the bug-dragon would have been too bulky to take to the skies, it suddenly seemed to have shrunk to three quarters of its original size. Ratty wings shot out into the open. They flexed once, beat a gust of smoky air down against the pavement, and heaved the monster's body into the air. Hundreds of beady eyes locked onto Arthur. With an earsplitting roar, it shot towards him.

"Shit!" Arthur threw himself sideways, nearly smashing his arm against the side of the skyscraper beside him. He focused his energy into the palms of his hands, struggling to ignore the sounds of the beast that refused to stop chasing him through the air, and in the process completely losing track of Alfred. At the moment, though, he thought he had a bit of a larger problem to deal with. Magic swirled between his hands, flickering from brilliant green to blue to lavender and back again. He drew his arms back and cast it at the bug-dragon. The creature shrieked with pain as it collided with the side of its head, destroying several of its many eyes, but it didn't hesitate for even a moment. Arthur cursed again- he had been hoping to stall it at the very least. He pushed himself up, up, further into the air, weaving left and right as the monster followed him, not daring to look back for fear of losing speed. Its burning breath licked at his heels.

Suddenly, that heat was gone. Arthur twisted himself around, staring down at the bug-dragon as it snarled and shrieked at the eagle attacking its head. Alfred gracefully dodged each snap of teeth, talons extended and slashing at the monster's scaly face, but those fangs kept coming dangerously close to his wings.

Professor Xavier's words echoed through Arthur's mind. "The two of you are going to train in here until you've learned to work together," he'd said. Arthur frowned down at Alfred. At this rate, fighting by themselves like this, they would have to return to this room for days, maybe even weeks, before they could rejoin their team. Rolling his eyes, Arthur cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Alfred!"

The eagle started in midair, nearly slamming headfirst into the side of a skyscraper. He caught himself at the last second, swooping up towards Arthur with a very human expression of annoyance, and narrowly avoiding another clash of giant teeth aiming at his tail feathers. Those blue, blue eyes bored into Arthur as Alfred joined him.

"Oh, don't give me that look," Arthur snapped. The dragon roared behind them, and Arthur shot forward, ducking around the side of a skyscraper and then turning once more so that he could tuck himself onto one of the window ledges, out of sight. Alfred perched beside him. One wing clipped the side of Arthur's head, and he scowled and shoved at the bird, which was quickly becoming a man again.

"What do you want?" Alfred demanded once he was human enough to speak. "I was doing fine by myself out there."

Arthur scoffed. "Oh, yes, of course you were. I forgot that our objective was to poke the beast to death." Alfred opened his mouth to object, but Arthur barreled onward. "This is not a real monster, Alfred. This is the Danger Room. These are her rules, and she's not programmed to make her creations easy to beat. If we want to win this fight and not have to try again tomorrow, we are going to need to work together."

The screech of huge talons scratching at steel made them both flinch. Their hiding place would not last for long, not with the Danger Room in control. Sure enough, the bug-dragon's large head slid around the side of the building, glowing eyes searching for the two of them. Arthur tucked himself further into their shelter.

"Together?" Alfred shook his head, expression somehow both obstinate and a little lost. "Arthur, we haven't worked well together for years. You know how it turned out back then." They both fell silent, remembering those days- the rain and the fires and the sound of footsteps that turned into hoof beats as they ran away-

"I know," said Arthur quietly. "But if we ever want to stop training and actually go out on missions, we're going to have to learn."

At that moment, the dragon seemed to spot them. It let out a shrill roar and clawed its way forward, long talons shattering windows and puncturing holes in solid steel. Its wings beat at the air. Arthur grabbed Alfred's upper arm, pulling him close to hiss in his face, "I have a plan. You're not going to like it, but you'll have to trust me."

Alfred scowled at him. "I guess I don't have much of a choice."

"I'm going to go out there and lead it away. It was following me before, so it will likely chase me again."

"And what about me?"

"Stay here." Arthur nearly shook him out of frustration when it looked like Alfred was about to argue. The bug-dragon was drawing closer- he could almost feel its breath. "I am not trying to get you hurt or keep you from the action! Just listen to me. Stay here and wait for the beast to get right alongside you, and then transform into one of your animals- something with claws, like your eagle or lion or coyote- and attack its underbelly. That should be its weak spot." Arthur glanced out again, and was met with the sight of hundreds of yellow eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth. He squeezed Alfred's arm once, before summoning his powers and throwing himself out into the open, right in front of the bug-dragon's face.

Just as he'd suspected, the dragon immediately twisted its neck to follow him. Obviously the Danger Room thought of him as the greater threat, he realized with a smirk. Alfred would be so upset if he found out. But he didn't have any time to focus on that right then, not with the bug-dragon right behind him. He lunged forward, keeping close to the side of the building so as not to draw the beast too far away from Alfred. The dragon snarled and followed him, nearly knocking him astray with the power of its wings, and, very quickly, began to pass across the ledge where Alfred was still hidden.

"Alfred!" Arthur yelled. "Now!"

The Danger Room knew immediately that she had missed something. The dragon turned in midair, long segmented body flexing and moving as it tried to find the location of the other mutant. But it was too late. A large brown coyote leaped out from the side of the skyscraper, teeth bared and ears flattened back against his head. Alfred's claws slid across the smooth surface of the monster's scaly carapace, unable to find purchase, until they managed to hook into the thin sliver of exposed flesh beneath. The bug-dragon howled in pain, thrashing back and forth in an attempt to get away from its attacker. Alfred held on tight, though his back paws scrambled for purchase they couldn't find and he was having a hard time sinking his teeth into the monster. He would not be able to hold on for much longer.

Arthur began to gather energy between his palms, pulling in as much as possible. It strained his nerves, made him sweat, but he didn't stop. He needed to do this- Alfred needed him to do this. The magic took shape, swelled and bubbled and flashed between his fingers, and it sent shocks of power through his system. His hair would have stood on end were he not wearing the uniform specifically designed to stop himself from discharging into the air around him. "Alfred!" he shouted, though his voice could barely be heard over the crackle of magic and the howls of the dragon. "Let go! Let go now!"

Alfred did. He tore his claws away from the bug-dragon, leaving behind gaping wounds in the monster's skin, and fell downwards towards the earth. The dragon shrieked above him. Its mouth was wide open, colored brownish-pink and soft. Arthur took his chance. The magic shot from his hands like a cannonball, carving its way through the air and directly into the monster's throat. The beast choked and coughed, body writhing as it tried to dislodge the energy. And then- Bam! It exploded.

Everything would have gone perfectly, except that Arthur hadn't informed Alfred about that part of the plan. He was mid-transformation, half coyote, half eagle, and he was still only a little ways below the dragon. The explosion caught him unawares. He twisted around, desperately shielding himself with his half-formed wings, but it was already too late. The edge of the blast burned across his front.

Arthur's stomach plunged. "Alfred! Alfred, you-" He dived down, through the smoke left by the dragon's explosion, until he could clutch at Alfred's wings, that were quickly becoming arms again. "Danger Room, end simulation!" he yelled. The cityscape around them flickered before fading into the walls from earlier.

"Fuck," said Alfred weakly as he was laid back against the cool metal floor. The front of his uniform was charred and dirty, still smoking faintly from the force of Arthur's energy. The skin beneath it was fiery red and looked as though it was about to blister. His arms were in the same state.

"Oh, you idiot." Arthur hissed through his teeth at the sight. "What were you thinking?"

"Me? Hell, I was thinking that you would have told me about the end of your plan!" Alfred lifted his head slightly to peer at his torso. "Wow. That is seriously not cool, man."

Arthur scowled at him. "Shut up! It wasn't- Well, yes, okay, it was my fault. But if you had only been paying attention, it wouldn't have been so bad." He hesitated. "Do you remember that time when you were younger, and you cut your knee open on that rusty fence?"

Alfred winced. "That killed. And then you tried to heal it, and it hurt even worse."

"Yes, well, I'm afraid this time will be far more painful." Arthur drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes and holding his hands out over Alfred's stomach. "You should probably bite down on something. I don't want you to bite through your tongue."

"Thanks for your concern," Alfred replied, voice dry, even as he struggled to stuff one of his gloves in between his teeth.

"Just shut up," said Arthur again, and then he bit his lip and focused on channeling energy through down through his hands, falling silent. His fingers grew warm as the magic leaped from him into Alfred. He felt Alfred's body tense beneath him, the muffled grunt of pain almost echoing even with his mouth blocked. He could picture Alfred's expression in his mind- brows drawn together, lips tight, jaw locked- but it kept slipping into the face of the boy he'd once cared for. Forcing the image away, he concentrated on the task of mending the wounds he had caused.

His head began to ache, then to pound, and his nerves screamed at him to stop, that he was going to push himself too far again, that he hadn't trained enough to use this much magic at once, but he didn't listen. His eyelids cracked open. He stared down at Alfred, watching as the bright red burns faded slowly towards the color of Alfred's skin. Even the blisters were sinking. Just as Arthur had thought, Alfred's face was screwed up in agony, nearly whining through his self-imposed gag. Guilt rushed through Arthur's body, but he knew he couldn't heal Alfred completely. He would have to stop, and stop soon, if he didn't want to make himself collapse. Reluctantly, he pulled his hands away. The flow of magic stopped, and he sat back, feeling as though he was about to faint.

Alfred lay there on his back for a long moment, just breathing heavily through his nose, before spitting his glove out and drawing in a gasp of air. His eyes flickered open and landed upon Arthur. He immediately pushed himself into a seated position, lips downturned, gaze worried. "Arthur. Hey, Arthur. Don't pass out on me, alright?"

"I'm not going to, you idiot," Arthur muttered, though his throbbing head said otherwise. He pressed one hand to it. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by an eighteen wheeler," said Alfred bluntly, looking down at himself for a second. "But at least I don't look like it anymore. You, on the other hand…" He hesitated, before reaching out to grab Arthur's shoulder. "Are you sure you're not going to pass out? You really look like you are."

Arthur frowned. "I'm fine." To prove it, he lifted himself up onto his feet. He fell back down moments later, and would have landed on his butt had two arms not caught him. Arthur felt his cheeks flush bright red. "So I'm a bit dizzy. It's nothing to worry about."

"Maybe not, but I'm not taking any chances on this." Alfred winked at him, smiling that slightly lopsided grin that had been so adorable as a boy and was now so- Arthur pushed the thought away. "You can ride, right?"

"What?" asked Arthur. He must have missed something- that made no sense.

Alfred raised his eyebrows. "Ride. Like, ride a horse. You can do that, yeah?"

"Oh. Oh, yes, of course I can."

"Alright, then!" Before Arthur could say anything further, Alfred was transforming again, body growing larger and bulkier, feet hardening into hooves, hair elongating into a wild mane. Soon, a large patterned mustang stood in front of him. Alfred huffed and struck his hoof against the ground impatiently, flicking his head towards his broad back. He nudged at Arthur's shoulder when he didn't move right away.

"This is ridiculous, Alfred," Arthur snapped. "Riding a horse through the Institution?" But still, he grabbed onto Alfred's side for balance as he heaved himself to his feet again, then pulled his body awkwardly on top of the younger mutant's back. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered as they began to trot towards the doors of the Danger Room. Alfred only snickered and tossed his head.

Well, at least they had managed to destroy the bug-dragon as a team, Arthur thought. Something relatively good had come out of their training session. Maybe the Professor would be satisfied with that, and they wouldn't have to return to the Danger Room for a while.

But Professor Xavier was not happy, and they did have to go back and try again the next day. And the day after that, and the one after that.

They would get it eventually.

* * *

><p>AN- Second chapter! Not much to say. Ivan, or Rusalka (which yes, I know, is a female water spirit) can control water, like the name implies. This part takes place soon after the first chapter.

Saturn-Jupiter- No, I can understand what you mean about putting the A/N in the beginning, it's just... I guess it's a personal preference of mine to have it at the end. I know that I, for one, never read a note written before the fic itself. So I hope that doesn't hinder your enjoyment too much? As for your second question, no, Arthur doesn't have wings. He can just manipulate magic energy to lift himself into the air. I'm glad you like the story, though!

Hope you enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3: Science

He wasn't sure how long he had been lying there. Minutes had passed into hours, days, months- maybe eternity had already flown by, and he was still just lying helpless on a table, hooked up to hundreds of little tubes and wires that felt like they were trying to carve their way into his core. Even breathing was painful. He could barely open his eyes, but he tried. His surroundings still looked the same. Huge machines lined either side of the table, full of whirring dials and flickering screens and levers and knobs and buttons that he recognized now, because some of them poured pure agony through his veins, and others allowed forced him into restless sleep. He longed for it now- everything hurt so much.

"Ah, doctor, Specimen 50 is awake."

He recognized that voice, and tried to turn his head to see the young assistant who sometimes, sometimes looked at him with pity instead of the others' cold indifference. But two latex-gloved hands grabbed the sides of his head, holding him in place. Once he would have fought them off. Now he didn't even have the strength. He stared up into the face of the man he had learned to fear, the one who pushed those buttons and who tortured his body. Though the doctor's mask covered the lower part of his face, and large glasses shielded his eyes, he knew the man was smiling.

"Well, 50, how was your sleep last night? Refreshing?" The doctor's eyes crinkled as his unseen smile widened. "I hope so. You'll need to keep up your strength so we can do our tests correctly."

He watched as the doctor reached to grab something outside his range of vision. It was a scalpel, long and sharp and cruel. He couldn't even find the strength to whimper in fear.

"Doctor," the young assistant said slowly, voice unsure, "shouldn't we knock him out first? Cutting into him while he's awake seems inhumane."

"Inhumane?" The doctor clucked his tongue. "You still have a lot to learn. How can this be inhumane if the specimen isn't even human? Besides, this is for the good of mankind. We need to figure out the biology of these mutants so we know how to take them out."

"But, doctor-"

"If you're going to stand there and argue about every little thing I say, just get out."

"Fine." The door to the lab hissed open, and a muffled click of footsteps signaled the assistant's departure.

The doctor sighed. "You can never find good help nowadays," he said conversationally, as though he wasn't holding a wickedly long scalpel. "Boys are just too proud to take any direction. It's all the parents' fault, I say- should have given the boy a few good smacks, teach him some respect for the rules."

He sucked in a shaky gasp as the scalpel slid into the skin of his chest. Blood was welling up in the wound, he could feel it, but his body couldn't do anything but tremble weakly. It hurt, it hurt, he wanted it to end, he didn't want to be there anymore, why couldn't he go back-

An alarm went off. The doctor jumped, yanking the scalpel violently away from the skin it was imbedded within. "What on earth-"

The door blew open, flying across the room and nearly decapitating the doctor before slamming heavily into one of the machines. It fizzled with electricity. The lights above them flickered on and off, on and off. The doctor staggered back out towards the wall. "What do you think you're doing? This is government property! You can't just come in here-" His words choked off with a strangled wet sound.

"We are not property," a familiar Russian-accented voice corrected him cheerfully.

He lay there on his table, unable to find the willpower to look sideways. His muddled mind, drowning in raw pain and lasting agony, couldn't seem to make sense of what was going on around him. Suddenly, his vision was filled with a stricken face and wide violet eyes that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Shaking hands ran down across his face. "Oh, Alfred…"

Another face appeared as well, this one with brilliant green eyes and thick eyebrows. Those eyes widened at the sight of him. "Shit," he said. "All these tubes- how are we going to-"

"I can do it." Both faces turned away towards the new voice, and soon another face was above him as well. It was the young assistant, mask torn off, bleeding from his temple but still so determined. "I know how to take them out."

The green-eyed face looked suspicious. "How do we know we can trust you?"

"Do you have any other choice?" the assistant asked. Almost as if to prove his point, the hallway outside was began to echo with the shouts and heavy footsteps.

"We'll hold them off," said another voice, and a Chinese man leaned down to peer into his eyes. "Alfred, hold on." And then he was gone.

"Fine," the green-eyed face conceded. "Take them out. But if it even looks like you're harming him…" His gaze flashed with power.

"I won't."

He- Alfred, because that's what they called him, wasn't it- furrowed his brow, breathing in short gasps as the tubes and wires were drawn from his skin one by one. It hurt, and he could feel blood trickling out from the deep holes left behind, but it wasn't anywhere near the white-hot torment of having them shoved in the first time. His stomach heaved. "I- I'm going to puke," he said, voice hoarse from lack of use.

The violet-eyed man grabbed his arms and helped him sit up, then stood aside so that Alfred could heave what little remained in his stomach up on the floor. It was tasted vile. Soft gloves stroked at his hair, and once he was finished, he turned to stare up at those violet eyes. "Matt?"

"Yes, Al, it's me." Matthew's smile shook. His hands didn't stop their gentle movements. "We're going to get you out of here, alright? Just hold on a little longer, and we'll take you back to the Institute and get you all fixed up. Okay?"

Alfred nodded, weak at first and then a little stronger. Everything was starting to fall into place. He glanced from Matthew, to Arthur, to the assistant who was pulling out the last of the tubes. "Thank you," he said to the man.

"Don't," the assistant replied, not looking up from his work. "I should have done this a long time ago. I let it go on for so long… I don't deserve your thanks."

"No, you do." It was Arthur this time. They all turned to look at him. "Even if you took a long time to do the right thing, you still did it. There are many men in the world who would not have done the same." His eyes flickered over to Alfred, and he smiled slightly. Alfred's own lips twitched upwards for the first time in ages. "So, thank you."

The assistant glanced back and forth between them. "Oh, I see."

"You see?" Arthur asked, brows knitting in confusion. "You see what?"

"Never mind," Matthew said with a quiet chuckle. He looked up at Alfred. "I'm going to have to go disable the security system so we can get out. Stay with Arthur, okay?" He patted Alfred's cheek once and vanished.

The last tube slid out of Alfred's side with a wet pop, and he winced at the feeling of blood sliding down his waist. "Thank you," he told the assistant again. The man only nodded, smiling faintly.

Arthur wound his arm around Alfred's chest, helping support him as he eased himself down onto the floor. It was cool beneath his bare feet. His legs shook after spending so long unable to move, but Arthur didn't stagger beneath his weight, and his warmth and presence and smell and everything made Alfred feel a million times stronger. He pressed his nose into those messy blonde locks. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me, idiot. Matthew did most of this." But Alfred could hear the smile in his voice even if he couldn't see it. "Now come on, let's get you home." He hesitated, then turned back to the assistant, who hadn't moved from his place beside the ruined machinery. "You can as well, if you want. We can offer you sanctuary from these people."

"I'll be fine. I know this place like the back of my hand." The assistant waved at the two of them. "I'll find my way out."

Arthur nodded, and Alfred waved back, and as Alfred leaned heavily upon the shorter mutant's shoulder, they slowly made their way out of the torture chamber Alfred had been trapped inside for so long. It was hard going, with Alfred's knees almost buckling beneath him more than once, yet Arthur held strong.

Once they made it to the X-Jet, Alfred was pulled into the arms of his brother, who cried into his chest for a long time and then berated him for being stupid enough to try to scout alone and made him promise never to do it again. Alfred agreed easily. Ivan piloted them away from there as he shouted good-natured insults at him from the cockpit. Arthur insisted on sitting him down and taking the edge off of the worst of his wounds. Yao spoon-fed him some strange but delicious broth that he had apparently carried with him all the way from the Institute. Alfred laughed, his voice still rough, and told them that he was fine.

And then Alfred cried, too, because he was hurting and bleeding and weak and the happiest he had ever been in his whole life. It was good to be home.

* * *

><p>AN- I'm not dead, I swear. I just haven't written any real updates to anything recently. And though I wish I could say that yelling or begging would change that... Well, it honestly won't. I just haven't been inspired. And now I'm doing NaNo and working on the Secret Santa, so yeah, probably won't be any real updates for a while.

However! I am going to be uploading other stuff I've written. It's all USUK, don't worry, and if any of you follow me on LJ or Tumblr, you might have read them before. These uploads will probably be sporadic, but they'll happen.

Anyway... This takes place about five or six months after the last story. The only new character introduced is Yao, or Jade Dragon. His powers involve being able to change the way the forces of physics affect his body- he can make himself light enough to walk on water, can change his gravity to walk up walls, can rearrange himself to be able to go through solid steel, and the like. However, he can't do the same to people around him.

Hope you enjoy, and don't be too mad at me, please!


	4. Chapter 4: Happy Birthday

For Alfred's twenty-fifth birthday, his team planned one hell of an extravaganza. Yao had set up some gravity-defying fireworks with the help of his younger brother, a silent boy named Hong. Matthew and Francis busied themselves with decorating a small grove of trees with beautiful hanging lanterns, courtesy of Yekaterina. Even Ivan was helping carry and set up a long table, to be filled with presents and food and whatever else they decided to toss on later, and Alfred himself was frosting a crazy-looking cake that he'd baked that morning. It looked kind of like a hamburger.

But while they were all spending the time laughing and having a rare moment of pure fun outside in the warm air, Arthur was seated in his room, alone. Every now and again he would look up where he was hunched over his own lap, and stare out the window at the rest of his teammates and friends. For those brief seconds he wished he could go out and join them, but then he turned back to his work, his eyebrows furrowed, and he attacked it with renewed vigor.

He'd been working on this for days. He had to finish it by the party that night.

Arthur was tying off the knot on his latest piece of thread when there came the sound of an explosion from down on the lawn, and suddenly everything was lit by bursts of red and blue. He jumped out of his seat and ran to the window. Down below, he could see Yao, looking rather frazzled and standing upside-down on a tree limb, berating Hong, who seemed to be smirking slightly. Arthur sighed. Just fireworks, then. With another sigh, he sat back down on his chair and drew his work back into his lap. His fingers slid the needle nimbly through the fabric and back again, over and over. It was soothing, repetitive, and he found himself losing track of time as he concentrated on the pattern.

His peace ended with the slam of his door swinging open. "Artie, there you are!" Alfred yelled as he raced into the room. "Don't sit here cooped up all day. Come outside! We're having a blast out there. Didn't you hear Hong's explosion?"

"Yes, yes I did." Arthur fumbled to hide his work in the drawer of his nightstand. It was a blatantly obvious gesture, but there was nowhere else to keep it out of Alfred's sight. "It sounds lovely down there, and I'll join you in just a bit, but for now-" He stopped abruptly as a slow grin spread across Alfred's face. "And what is so funny?"

Alfred kept grinning. "You're making me a birthday present."

"What- I never- Where would you get such a foolish idea?" Arthur stuttered, pressing himself back against the drawer and giving himself away entirely. He inwardly cursed at his own stupidity.

"Oh come on, Arthur, I'm not an idiot." Alfred's grin widened, and he stepped forward once, then again, and again, until he was only a few inches away from Arthur. "I saw you hiding whatever that was in there."

Arthur swallowed heavily, eyes wide. "Why does that mean it's a birthday gift?" he asked, voice weak. The few inches difference between their heights seemed staggering from this close up.

Alfred laughed and leaned down, his hands bracing themselves against the edges of the nightstand, trapping Arthur between them. Now they were close enough that Arthur could feel each of Alfred's gentle breaths fanning across his cheeks. "Why else would you be hiding things from me on my birthday?"

"I, ah-" Oh, Alfred was too close, far too close. Arthur found himself noticing silly, stupid little things, like Alfred's musky cologne and the slight scent of sweat and leather and fur beneath it, the way the diamond in Alfred's earring sparkled in the afternoon sunlight, how long Alfred's eyelashes were, and how mesmerizingly slow they moved as he blinked behind his glasses, and a million and one other things that made Arthur's breath catch and his heart palpitate and that ridiculous confusing little idea surge to the forefront of his mind. He drew in a shaking breath. "Well, what if it is a gift? What would you do then?"

"I guess I could try to sneak a look at it," Alfred replied. His teeth were very, very white, and a little crooked but it was so charming, and Arthur almost slapped himself for staring at Alfred's teeth, of all things. Luckily, the mutant in question didn't seem to notice his perusal. "But then again, that would ruin the surprise." Alfred cocked his head sideways, his hair falling partway across his face. "So I guess I'll have to let you get away with it this time." He winked.

The heat that rushed up into Arthur's cheeks moved so quickly that he almost felt lightheaded. He averted his eyes, his knuckles nearly numb where they were pressed against the drawer behind him. "Er, well, that's good." He forced out a laugh, and winced at how harsh it sounded.

Alfred's grin faded slightly. He pulled back, and though Arthur wanted to follow him or ask him to stay or maybe even grab his arms, he forced himself to remain against the nightstand. "Alright, I'll leave you alone to work on your super secret birthday present, but you will come out later, right?"

"Of course." Arthur smiled what he hoped was a natural smile, though judging by Alfred's facial expression he was far from it. "Happy birthday, Alfred."

"Thanks," Alfred replied with a chuckle. "Better go back down and oversee my party, yeah? See you later, Arthur." He seemed reluctant to leave, though, and his footsteps towards the door were slow and almost hesitant. The silence drew out between them. "Well, bye!" he said finally, and disappeared out into the hallway.

Arthur didn't move for a long time, staring at the now empty doorway, almost expecting Alfred to barrel back through and chatter away with that boyish energy he'd had for all of the years Arthur had known him. Letting out a deep sigh, Arthur finally pulled himself away from the nightstand and reached inside to pull out his work. His hasty shove had not damaged any of the needlework, luckily. He allowed himself a relieved, if somewhat sad, smile as he moved back over to his chair.

The needle moved in and out, in and out, in and out, and Arthur tried his hardest to bury his thoughts beneath it.

When Alfred opened his gifts later that night, he received what he'd been expecting- a porno and some fancy lube from Francis, along with suggestions on just how to use it, some flowery perfume stuff in a glass bottle from Yao and Hong, a new jacket from his brother, since the old one had been damaged beyond repair during their last mission, a stockpile of good alcohol from Ivan, Yekaterina, and Natalia. But even though he loved all of it, and thanked everyone for giving him such great presents, what Alfred was really looking forward to was whatever Arthur had given. It was wrapped up nicely in a cardboard box, and felt very light when he lifted it.

"Hey, Arthur, you better not have made me one of those girly handkerchiefs," he called out to the mutant in question. Arthur only rolled his eyes. He looked a little pale, though, almost like he was nervous, and Alfred's stomach did a strange little flip. What if Arthur had made him a handkerchief? He would love it, of course, because he would love anything Arthur made for him, no matter how useless it seemed, but now he'd gone and said something insulting like that. Damn.

"Well?" Matthew nudged his arm. "Aren't you going to open it?"

Alfred forced out a laugh. "Yeah, of course!" He tore his gaze away from Arthur's face and down to the present on his lap. The wrapping paper fell off easily, and he slowly lifted the cover of the box, almost afraid of what he would find within it.

It wasn't a handkerchief. Alfred drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide and his heart close to bursting with the force that it hammered against his chest. He reached into the box, hands trembling, and pulled out a small, soft stuffed rabbit. Its eyes were small black beads, its ears long and floppy. His mind flitted back into the memories of years before, living on the streets with Arthur and Matthew, the rabbit Arthur had found for him way back then, and he suddenly found that he didn't know what to say. Alfred clutched the new rabbit to his chest and stared at Arthur, mouth open but no words coming out.

"A stuffed toy?" Francis laughed. "I thought you were turning twenty-five, Alfred, not four!" Matthew elbowed him in the side, frowning, and he shut up.

Arthur's face was flushed brilliant red, and his gaze was lowered and directed at the rabbit, but Alfred couldn't tear his eyes away from him. "I…" He swallowed hard and tried again. "Arthur, thank you."

"It's nothing," Arthur mumbled, though his cheeks blushed even darker. "It was- It was just…" He trailed off, obviously unable to think of anything else to say, and the table slowly sank into a calm silence.

A few quiet minutes slid by, in which Alfred and Arthur studiously avoided meeting each other's gaze, and the other partygoers stared awkwardly around at one another. Finally, Yekaterina let out a nervous giggle- and a few dazzling sparks- and said, "This is a rather quiet party. I thought we were supposed to be celebrating!"

"Yes, you're right!" Yao agreed. He grabbed a random platter off the table- the remains of the birthday cake- and held it out to Alfred. "More cake? You usually eat more than this."

Alfred blinked once, then shook his head. A smile spread across his lips, and he set the rabbit down between his legs, reaching across the table to grab at the cake. "Cake? Sure! I've only had one piece so far."

The night drew on, and the party grew loud and boisterous once again. But Alfred never stopped holding that rabbit, and the sight of Arthur's small and shy and beautiful smile that didn't disappear made his heart soar and his mind churn with confusion and a tiny, quiet, important realization.

* * *

><p>AN- Another update! Written months ago, but whatever.

This fic takes place about a year after the last one. Lots of new characters this time! Francis doesn't have an X-Man name yet (I'm open to suggestions), but he is an empath (can read others' emotions), and his presence works almost like a painkiller for the mind. Hong is too young to have an X-Man name (he's about twelve in this), and his powers involve explosions, and are triggered by his emotions. Yekaterina (Ukraine, who is now named Flint) breathes sparks and embers, usually harmless, but when her temper flares she literally spits fire. Natalia, or Claymore, can form any part of her body into blades of any kind she wants. She's powerful but doesn't work well with others, and so she tends to journey out alone.


	5. Chapter 5: Military

Arthur didn't remember much about his childhood- he had shoved those memories away, hidden them far beneath his happier, more recent ones- but he remembered the soldiers. He could recall their armor, the masks shielding their faces and turning them from men into horrific nightmare machines in the mind of a small child, the cold hard casings of their guns. He could see his father's face, terrified but strong, demanding why his house was being entered without permission, and his stepmother's admission that she had told them. He still woke up sometimes, drenched with sweat, shaking, because he remembered watching his father's body blossom with red as he struggled to get to him, to get to Arthur, to his mutant son, and he remembered his own screams as he was carried away. But those memories were buried deep, and he only rarely dreamt of them.

Tonight was one of those rare nights. Arthur shot upright in his bed, throat aching from the force of his scream. He stared around the darkened room, eyes wide and wild, almost expecting one of those machine-like soldiers to burst out at him from the shadows. Everything was still and silent.

Well, it was until his bedroom door was flung wide open, and someone yelled out, "Arthur!"

He scrambled backwards across his bed, tangling his legs in the covers and throwing his arms up in defense. A shield of energy leapt into existence in front of him. "Don't come near me," Arthur hissed. The magic burned red.

"Arthur," the person soothed. They took a step towards the shield. "Arthur, it's just me. It's Alfred. Come on, you know me. I'm not going to hurt you."

"I…" The energy shield flickered slightly. Arthur blinked, long and slow, and Alfred's face swam into sight. His hands dropped, along with his shield, and he suddenly felt very, very small and foolish. "Oh. I'm sorry, you startled me and I wasn't-"

"What's wrong?"

Arthur stared at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"What's wrong?" Alfred tried again. He moved forward until he could sit down on the edge of Arthur's bed, much to Arthur's displeasure.

"I don't know what you mean." Arthur looked away into the shadows, refusing to meet Alfred's worried gaze.

"Stop acting like I'm stupid, Arthur. You woke me up with that scream. I thought you were being murdered or something!"

Arthur forced out a weak chuckle. "It was only a nightmare, nothing to worry about. I apologize for waking you." He waited for Alfred to laugh, to grin and say okay and walk back to his own room, but he didn't, so Arthur cleared his throat. "You should probably go back to bed. We'll be up bright and early for training, and you need your sleep."

Alfred still didn't move. "Arthur," he said firmly, "you're crying."

"What?" Arthur actually did chuckle this time, and lifted a hand to his cheek. "Don't be foolish-" His face was wet. Now he could feel it, the sensation of tears rolling out down his cheeks, and it made him burn with embarrassment. He turned away from Alfred, wiping at the trails. "O-oh, well, that's just ridiculous of me."

"Hey." A strong hand brushed along the side of his jaw before gently grabbing his chin and guiding his face back towards Alfred again. "Hey, don't be embarrassed. Everyone cries sometimes." Alfred's hand hesitated, as if he wanted to do something more with it, but he allowed it to drop back to the sheets. "What was your nightmare about? It must have been bad to make you cry like this."

"I already told you, it was nothing to worry about." But even though his face was flaming with shame, and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself beneath his covers and completely forget this whole thing, some part of Arthur was soothed by Alfred's obvious care. He wiped at his eyes again.

"Alright," Alfred said after a moment, voice quiet. "If you don't want to tell me, I guess I can't make you. But when you do, I'll always be here to listen, okay?" He patted Arthur's knee through the blankets and stood up, stretching out his arms and letting out a loud yawn.

"Go to sleep," Arthur admonished. He reached out to shove at Alfred's hip, pushing him towards the door. "I don't want to have to pick up your slack just because you didn't get a full night's rest."

Alfred grinned at him. "Now that's the Arthur I know." He yawned once more, and waved at Arthur as he made his way out the door. "See you tomorrow morning." The door clicked shut behind him.

As he got himself comfortable beneath his sheets again, Arthur found himself staring into the darkness of his room. This time, though, the shadows weren't hiding soldiers who threatened to take him away or force him into barred rooms. This time, the dark was just the dark. He lay down, head nestled upon his pillow, and glanced sideways at his closed door. Beyond it was a hallway, and down that hallway were Alfred and his other teammates. Not that he thought he needed their protection- no, whatever night terrors came after him, he would take head on- but their presence was comforting.

He rolled over in his bed, pulling the sheets over his shoulders to tuck around his chin, and allowed his eyes to slip closed. The cool of the spring night settled around him. The soldiers were gone, the prisons were gone, and he was just Arthur, about to go to sleep somewhere safe.

It was only as his consciousness was being to slip back into dreamland that he realized he had never made Alfred promise not to tell anyone about what had happened. Yet somehow, the thought didn't worry him. Alfred had had nightmares too, once upon a time. Both of their secrets would remain safe for now.

Arthur drifted off into peaceful sleep, and dreamt of blue eyes.

* * *

><p>AN- More updates! Whoo.

It takes place between the second and third fics, before Alfred was captured. No new mutants to introduce this time.


	6. Chapter 6: Theater

For the life of him, Arthur could not understand why he was awake. A quick glance at his watch confirmed his suspicions- it was past one. That meant he had been laying in his bed, extremely tired but unable to ease into restful sleep, for almost two hours. He groaned and pressed an arm to his eyes. This was becoming ridiculous. He'd never had these kinds of sleeping problems before!

But then again, he'd never had quite so much to think about before, either. Arthur rolled onto his side, heaving out a weary sigh. The government was once again viewing mutants as a threat. Rights and privileges were being cut and more and more young mutants were joining Magneto and his vision of domination. The X-Men were having trouble keeping up with the enemies on all sides, and Ivan's betrayal had left them all disheartened. Professor Xavier was spending ridiculous amounts of time alone, trying to come up with some kind of plan, while everyone else tried their hardest to live their lives in a somewhat normal fashion.

And yet… as depressing as all of those new developments were, what really bombarded Arthur as he lay there that night was his own emotional turmoil. It was all Alfred's fault. He should have grown up to be just an average man, with an average face and an average body and an average spirit, one who wouldn't draw Arthur's gaze every time he walked into a room. He should have developed an average voice that didn't make Arthur's heart swell, and an average smile that didn't make him feel so warm. But Alfred had, and he was tall and handsome and ridiculous and wonderful, and hearing that laugh could brighten Arthur's whole day.

Arthur's cheeks burned, and he rolled the other way, burying his face in his blankets. He wasn't stupid- he knew what this was. It had gone on far too long, and far too powerfully, to be only a crush. The thought still made him nervous, because after all, he had raised the boy who turned into this man, but then his common sense would kick in and remind him that he had been a boy at the time, too, and that they were only three years apart in age. Still, the very idea of liking Alfred, and possibly even being in love with him, was enough to keep him away from his sleep. What was he supposed to do? Just go up to Alfred and tell him? Send him flowers? Write him a poem? None of the options sounded right.

Groaning, Arthur heaved himself out of bed. He wouldn't fall asleep at all if he just lay there and thought like that. Maybe a walk around the mansion would settle him down a bit. He grabbed his bathrobe, wrapping it tightly around himself to ward off the winter night's chill, and started off down the hallway.

It was calm, quiet, just how it should have been. The rest of the occupants were all asleep in their respective rooms… Well, almost all of them. Arthur paused in front of an open door, blinking at the light shining out through it. Oh. It was Logan. Frowning, Arthur turned and continued along the hall. There was no point in trying to stop and talk to the man- Logan had made it perfectly clear that he didn't like Arthur, and Arthur would be lying if he said the feeling wasn't mutual. He shoved all of those thoughts away.

As he reached the end of the hallway, and the top of the stairs, Arthur paused. He could have sworn he heard the sound of voices. Was it coming from back in Logan's room? No, it hadn't seemed like the man's gruff voice, or even the noise of a television. In fact, it almost sounded like- The sound came again, and it was definitely a voice this time.

Arthur strode over to a room on the other side of the hallway. The door was cracked open the slightest bit, and he pushed it open a few more inches. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the single lamp lighting the room, but when they did, he couldn't help the gentle smile that stole across his face.

There, seated in the middle of the room on the floor, was Alfred. In front of him sat two young children, mutants that Arthur had seen arriving only a few days earlier. At the time, they had looked pale, nervous, and sickly, but now, their faces were alight with joy. Arthur pushed open the door a bit more. Now he could see what exactly they were doing.

Alfred's hands were each wearing a long white sock. The fabric was clutched between his index fingers and thumbs, creating what looked like a strange mouth, and both socks had a pair of lopsided eyes drawn on with markers. Alfred himself was grinning. "And then," he said, obviously continuing something which he had been saying before, "Skin-Walker swooped in to the rescue!" The sock with blue eyes head-butted the other, and the children squealed with laughter.

"What happened then, Al?" one of them demanded, tugging on Alfred's sleeve.

Just as he was about to answer, Alfred happened to glance up and meet Arthur's eyes. Arthur felt himself flush red, but Alfred only grinned and gestured at him with the Skin-Walker puppet. "I think my buddy Arthur over there can answer that for you."

The two children turned around to stare at the door, eyes wide. Arthur sighed and stepped forward. "Well, since it seems I've been volunteered, I suppose I'll join. I'll need another sock, though. And who on earth are we fighting?"

It turned out that this was a dramatic retelling of one of their battles against Strafe and his allies. Arthur was outfitted with his own white sock, with two green eyes drawn on courtesy of the children, and was flung headlong into a story that he wasn't quite sure had really happened. He couldn't remember the army of dragons, or any point where they had flown up into space, and certainly not the bit about himself riding a magic purple unicorn into battle, but the children were laughing and smiling and Alfred was grinning, and Arthur found himself chuckling too.

Once the impromptu performance was over, Arthur helped Alfred with tucking the children back into their beds. They were still smiling as the light was turned off, and Alfred ruffled their hair before turning away towards the door. "Good night" and "I'll see you in the morning" were exchanged several times, until finally the door closed, and Arthur stood in the hallway with Alfred. The Institute was asleep again. Even the light from Logan's room had vanished.

"What was that all about?" Arthur murmured as they began to make their way towards their own rooms.

Alfred shrugged. "I heard them talking when I went to get a midnight snack earlier. They sounded sad, so I thought I'd cheer them up." He grinned down at Arthur, who couldn't help but smile back.

"Well, I think it worked." They fell into a comfortable silence.

Soon, they reached Arthur's door, and what before had been a quiet camaraderie was suddenly awkward and tense. Arthur stared down at the sleeves of his robe. "I suppose you should get back to bed."

"Yeah." But Alfred didn't move. "Arthur?"

"Yes?" Arthur whispered. His chest felt tight.

Two warm hands rested themselves against his shoulders, and he slowly raised his gaze to meet Alfred's moonlit blue one. "You look sad."

"It's nothing to worry about. I haven't been sleeping well lately, that's all." Arthur forced out a small laugh, and winced at the harsh sound of it. "With everything that's been going on, I can understand why I'd look a bit under the weather."

Alfred seemed to think about the excuse for a moment, but then he shook his head. "There's something else. I know it." His hands slid upwards slightly, just barely cupping the sides of Arthur's neck, and Arthur hoped he couldn't feel the way his pulse fluttered beneath the touch. "I've been thinking about all that stuff, too, but there's something about you that looks so sad, Arthur." Alfred smiled, his gaze soft. "I just want to cheer you up."

Arthur tried his best to give a smile in return, but it was tinged with nerves. His heart was attempting to beat its way out of his chest. "What, are you going to put on another sock puppet show for me?"

"Only if you want one." Alfred's breathy chuckle washed across Arthur's face. Had they been so close together a moment ago? "Though I was thinking of doing something else."

"Something else?" Arthur asked faintly.

"Yeah."

And they were pressed together, Alfred's mouth crushed against Arthur's, their hands grasping at skin and clothes. Arthur's mind was whirling, unable to comprehend just what was happening to him. Alfred's lips were warm, his tongue was warm, his hands were warm- was this some kind of dream, something he had thought up to will away his own yearning? He gasped and pulled away, though his hands remained clenched in the fabric of Alfred's shirt.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice breathy, interspersed by low gasps.

"I- I thought-" Alfred looked worried now, confused, maybe even a little terrified. He lifted his hands to grasp at Arthur's wrists and gently disentangled them from his shirt. "I'm sorry, I guess I thought wrong. Shit. I- I'm really sorry, Arthur, I just- I saw the way you looked at me, and I-"

Arthur shook his head, refusing to let him back away. "No. No, you're- I've wanted- I never thought-" He finally gave up on his words altogether and simply reached out to wind his arms around strong shoulders and pull Alfred back against his body. It took a minute, but finally Alfred relaxed, and their lips parted and tongues tangled and hands groped and grasped.

One of them fumbled for the doorknob- Arthur couldn't remember who- and they fell back into Arthur's room. The door clicked shut behind them.

They would have to talk about this, of course, but that could wait until morning.

* * *

><p>AN- Update from months ago, again.

This takes place about a year and a half after the 4th of July one. And for those of you who don't know who Logan is... Go read some X-men.


	7. Chapter 7: Nighttime

The sunset from the roof was beautiful, even if the winter air made it a little too chilly for the average watcher. Alfred sat up there alone, his back braced against one of the several chimneys. The oranges and reds and violets turned the sky into a wonderful tableau, dotted with cotton candy clouds. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees surrounding the Institute. It was the perfect time of day to sit up there, relax, and allow one's mind to drift.

For Alfred, though, the roof was not a resting place. Instead, it was his current hiding spot. He felt a little silly, thinking about it like that, but what else could he call it? He was hiding up there from Arthur, keeping a good distance between himself and the questions that so desperately needed to be asked. The very idea of the conversation they would have to have someday made his stomach twitch with fear. He already knew his answers. He just didn't know what Arthur's would be.

Sighing, Alfred pulled his knees up to his chest and leaned his head back against the chimney. Everything was so… weird, now. After last night, when he had fallen into Arthur's bed, he couldn't seem to meet the other mutant's eyes. He had ran away from Arthur's room as soon as he'd woken up, and hadn't gone down for any of the meals, despite his stomach's angry growls. In fact, he hadn't seen Arthur at all. It was kind of depressing- he'd gotten used to spending hours by the older mutant's side.

Now, though… Now, everything was different, and it was all his fault. Alfred heaved out a sigh. He shouldn't have done it, any of it. No matter how attractive Arthur was, or how sad he looked, or how long Alfred had wanted him, he should have just said goodnight and walked back to his room. He felt like such an idiot. He never-

"This is a horrible hiding spot."

Alfred yelped and jerked sideways, nearly toppling down the side of the roof before he managed to regain his balance. He stared wide-eyed up at Arthur, who was floating a foot or two away from him, over the gentle slope of the mansion's roof. Excuses flitted through his head, but each one seemed to become more and more stupid. "Um," he said brilliantly.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "How eloquent." His voice was tight and carefully neutral. "Now, are you going to tell me why you're hiding from me on top of the Institute?"

"I, um-" The words seemed to catch in Alfred's throat. He coughed once and tried again. "I'm not hiding?"

"Not hiding?" Arthur snorted, crossing his arms. "Oh, yes, how silly of me. Obviously you're not trying to avoid me. I simply haven't seen you once today, not in the kitchen or the dining room or the hallways or anywhere else we tend to meet. Unless we are the victims of some strange coincidence, you're doing it on purpose." He paused, and his gaze flickered, making him look more vulnerable. "And you- You left this morning. You left before I woke up."

Every emotion that had been churning around in Alfred's guts drew together into a painful lump. "Arthur," he murmured. More excuses ran through his mind, but he couldn't seem to say any of them. The only thing he could speak was the truth. "I thought you wouldn't have wanted to see me." The words hurt as they passed out his mouth, stabbing him in the heart as they entered the air.

"You thought…" The sun was really setting now, its golden orb sinking down below the horizon, and the fading colors cast Arthur's face into a beautiful mosaic. His lips twitched downwards. "Why wouldn't I want to see you?"

Alfred shook his head helplessly. "I took advantage of you!" he blurted. Once those words were out, the dam seemed to have broken, and everything came rushing forth. "You were feeling sad and upset, and I took advantage of you! I was acting like a horny teenager. Fuck, Arthur, why would you want to see me ever again? I never should have done it. It's just, I wanted it for so long, and it all just came to a head last night, but I never wanted it like this. I wanted you to want it, too, not just for comfort. I can't-"

And then Alfred couldn't say anything else, because he suddenly found himself with a pair of arms wound around his neck, and a lean body pressed against his own, and a warm face being hidden in the crook of his neck. He sat motionless, startled, for a long moment, just staring down at Arthur. Slowly, he raised his arms to wrap them around Arthur's back. "Arthur? Artie?"

"You idiot," Arthur mumbled, his voice muffled by Alfred's neck. The sensation of his lips brushing against skin made them both shiver, bringing back memories of the night before. "You really thought you'd taken advantage of me?"

"Well, yeah."

Silence reigned for a several minutes. Alfred stared out at the sky, taking in the natural spectacle of nightfall. Finally, Arthur lifted his head. His eyes were glassy and wet, as though he'd been fighting back tears, but his lips were curved up in a soft, hesitant smile. "You were always such a foolish boy. I suppose it was silly of me to expect that you'd become any less of a foolish man." He lifted one hand to brush through Alfred's bangs, lingering on his cowlick. "You did not take advantage of me, Alfred. Not at all."

Alfred's heart soared, but anxiety still managed to creep in amongst the elation. He tightened his hold around Arthur. "Are you sure? I mean, I- I suggested it, and you were having a moment of weakness, and-"

"Moment of weakness my arse." Yet Arthur was still smiling. "Alfred, there was no possible way you could have taken advantage of me last night. I've been wanting to do that for far too long." His cheeks were tinted red, the last vestiges of the sunset highlighting them to an even brighter cherry color.

"You wanted that?" Alfred knew he looked ridiculous, sitting there with wide eyes, mouth open, possibly looking like he was about to cry, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he could think about was that Arthur had wanted it- wanted him!

Arthur nodded. "I've felt this way for a long time. And when you offered it last night, I would have been out of my right mind to turn you away." His hands reached up to cup Alfred's cheeks, his thumbs smoothing delicately over the tanned skin. "When you were gone this morning, I thought… I wondered if you regretted it, sleeping with me."

"Regretted it?" Alfred was beginning to feel kind of like a parrot, repeating everything Arthur told him. He lifted his hands to cup Arthur's face as well. "Hell, Artie, I don't think anything in the world could make me regret what we did last night." The idiotic grin spreading across his face was starting to hurt his cheeks.

"Then, you wouldn't mind if I wanted to do it again?" Arthur's smile was growing wider as well. The stars slowly began to flicker into view above them, and their shine, coupled with that of the nearly full moon, made Arthur almost glow with pure white light. It was possibly the most beautiful thing Alfred had ever seen.

Alfred kissed him, sweet and chaste but leaving them both breathless. "We can do it as much as you want." He kissed him again. "All day, every day."

Arthur just laughed. "All day? I think we would tire ourselves out eventually." He didn't object when Alfred pulled him in for yet another kiss, and this one quickly became open-mouthed and wet and warm, a sharp contrast to the winter air around them.

"Don't underestimate me," Alfred warned when they parted for the briefest moment. "I bet I'll surprise you with my stamina."

Gaze smoldering, Arthur wound his fingers into Alfred's hair and tugged until his lips could brush along the rim of Alfred's ear. "Prove it, then."

Alfred growled and pulled him down, and proved it over and over again. It was dark out, and cold, and a rooftop in the middle of winter probably wasn't the best place for these kinds of activities, but right then, neither of them could bring themselves to care.

* * *

><p>AN- Months-old update.

Obviously this takes place the day after the last one.

Oh, and because I'm getting really tired of being asked this through PMs... I don't and won't write for any other pairing. Sorry. They might be included as side stuff in some stories, but I can guarantee you that I will never be writing a full story for any of them.


	8. Chapter 8: Supernatural

As he stood there, on that raised platform in front of hundreds and hundreds of wary eyes, Arthur couldn't remember ever feeling so alone. He knew it was ridiculous- alongside him stood Alfred, Matthew, Yao, Francis, and various other members of the X-Men, and in front of them, speaking into a microphone, sat Professor Xavier. Government officials took up the remaining spots on the platform.

It was supposed to be a happy day. Election season had come and gone, and a new government was in power now, a government that, for the moment at least, wanted to try to integrate mutants into everyday life. They were no longer going to take away rights, no longer force mutants to identify themselves as such, no longer treat anyone as though they were less than human. Well, that's what they said. Arthur was not stupid enough to overlook the heavily armed guards surrounding the platform, supposedly for their own protection.

Professor Xavier was finishing up his speech. Though he felt a bit guilty for not having paid much attention, Arthur couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from the crowd before them. They were all humans. They were all normal. He felt like a circus freak, put up on stage for their viewing pleasure. An uncomfortable shiver rolled up and down his spine. He wanted nothing more than to go home, back to the Institute, make himself a pot of tea and pick up a good book. He didn't want to be here.

A gentle touch on the side of his hand startled him out of his anxious thoughts, and he looked up to see Alfred's wide blue eyes staring worriedly down at him. Arthur gave his best attempt at a smile, though he knew it fell short, and bumped his hand back against Alfred's larger one. He could feel the warmth of Alfred's body even through the fabric of both of their gloves. It calmed him down a bit.

Now the President was stepping forward to take the microphone from Professor Xavier, and Arthur realized with a jolt of both sadness and anger that none of the audience was clapping after the Professor's speech. No matter how many times the new government insisted things were changing, it wouldn't happen until the people decided to accept them. That could take a very long time.

The rest of the event, comprised of long-winded speeches and posturing from various government and military figures, seemed to drag on and on. Arthur stopped even trying to listen to any of them. It was all he could do to stop himself from being sick on the platform. There were too many people, all watching him, all judging him, and all he could think about were those repressed memories of a childhood spent in captivity. He could feel his legs shaking beneath him. Somewhere along the way, Alfred had wound his arm around Arthur's waist, and though it drew even more judgmental eyes towards them, he leaned heavily into the touch.

"It'll be done soon," Alfred murmured into his ear. "Then we'll go home, okay? Just a little bit longer."

Alfred still didn't know about his past, and for that Arthur felt just a little guilty, but he could never seem to find the words to bring it up and explain. Maybe today he would. Alfred deserved to know. For the moment, though, all Arthur could do was nod.

Finally, finally, the speeches ended, and after one last series of forced pleasantries and handshakes between the officials and Professor Xavier, they made their way down off the platform. The X-Jet was waiting for them, partially concealed by a grouping of trees in the center of the park. They trailed behind the Professor and Scott as they debated their next move. Arthur stayed as close to Alfred as possible, keeping the younger mutant's hand firmly in its place around his waist. Alfred made no move to draw it away.

The X-Jet was only a few meters ahead of them when Arthur heard it- a small noise, faint but piercing, coming from behind one of the trees. He stopped abruptly, turning towards the source.

"Artie?" Alfred asked. "What are you doing?"

Arthur shushed him and moved forward. The sound didn't seem aggressive. He peered around the side of the tree. There, seated on the ground, her hands balled into little fists that she was using to wipe at her eyes, was a small child, probably no more than six or seven years old. Her knees were tucked up to her chest, both bleeding where they had obviously come into contact with rocky ground. She was sobbing quietly.

Arthur hesitated for a moment. Up until he'd met Alfred and Matthew, he had never dealt with children. He knew he wasn't very good with them. But this little girl… He couldn't just leave her there to cry. Drawing in a deep breath, he stepped around the side of the tree. "Hello."

The girl jumped, falling sideways and scrambling away from him. Her eyes were wide and brilliant blue, and reminded him of Alfred. "Mommy says I can't talk to strangers. Who are you?" she whimpered.

"My name is Arthur," he replied, crouching down on the ground. He didn't make any move to get closer to her. "It's a good thing your mommy told you that. Strangers can be dangerous. But where are your parents now? Shouldn't you be with them?"

She sniffled, rubbing at her runny nose. "I was chasing butterflies and I got lost."

"Arthur, what-" Alfred stepped out into the open, then froze at the sight in front of him. He quickly joined Arthur by kneeling down on the grass. "Hi there, little lady."

The girl's eyes widened further. She glanced back and forth between Arthur and Alfred, before finally shooting an almost accusatory glare at Arthur. "Who's he?"

"This is Alfred," Arthur said with a smile. "He's my partner."

"Oh." The girl looked between them again for a few seconds. "So you're married?" she asked curiously.

Alfred burst out laughing. Arthur spluttered something incoherent and elbowed him in the side. "No, no, we're not married."

"But you said-"

"We work together, that's all."

The girl stared at them for a moment longer, and shook her head. "No, you're in love. I can see it." A tiny smile appeared on her lips. "You look at each other like mommy and daddy do."

Arthur felt the slow burn of his blush as it traveled up from his neck to his ears. He cast a quick, embarrassed glance at Alfred, and was pleased to see an equally powerful blush across the younger mutant's face. They had never talked about love before. Yes, they had been together for a while, and it was more than merely sleeping together, or even just dating, but the word love had never come up. Arthur cleared his throat lightly and turned back to the little girl. "We're not married."

"Not yet, at least," Alfred added. The words made something inside Arthur leap for joy, but he carefully kept himself from looking over at his partner. Jumping on him in front of a young child would not be appropriate.

"Huh." The girl frowned, then shrugged. "I guess that's okay, if you're going to get married someday and everything. My name's Amelia!" The frown was gone in an instant, replaced with a wide grin. Obviously her fear of strangers had fled.

"It's lovely to meet you, Amelia." Arthur smiled back. "Now, I think we should see about getting you back to your parents. Do you have any idea where they might be?"

Amelia shrugged again. "I don't know. They were just standing around and being all boring."

"Well, this could be a problem." Turning to Alfred, Arthur gestured back towards where the jet was still waiting for them. "We can't stay here for long."

"We can't just leave her here, though," Alfred replied, mouth quirking downwards slightly. "I mean, I know it's a public park and everything, but that doesn't mean it's safe for a little girl."

Arthur nodded slowly. "We'll have to find some way of getting her to her parents."

"Hey!" Amelia interjected, waving her hands in their faces. She'd stood up and strode forward until she was right in front of them. "Hey, stop talking about me like I'm not here. I am here!" She pouted. "And my knees still hurt."

"Those do look sore." Arthur hesitated. He could fix them, and fix them easily- it would take only a minute or two and just the slightest bit of his powers. But Amelia was only a child, and a normal human one at that. He didn't know her parents, he didn't know what they thought of mutants, and he didn't know if they would want his help. "Amelia," he said, choosing his words carefully, "do your parents like… special people?"

"Special people?" Amelia blinked at him, uncomprehending, before her eyes lit up. "Oh, you mean like the weird people who live up in that big mansion? The ones who can do magic and stuff?"

Alfred chuckled, and Arthur couldn't hold back a small smile. "Yes, those ones."

Amelia cocked her head sideways. "Well, mommy doesn't like them. She says they're all freaks or something, and that they should all get locked up in jail." Arthur's heart sank. "Daddy doesn't really talk about them much, but I don't think he feels the same way as mommy. I saw him reading something about them in the newspaper and he was smiling." She puffed up her chest proudly and favored them with her smile again. "The paper was talking about how good things are happening for the weird magic people. Daddy tried to hide it when he saw me standing there, but I still saw what it said. I can read super fast!"

"I bet you can, darling," Alfred said gently. Arthur looked over at him, catching his eye, and a brief, wordless exchange passed between the two of them. Though neither were telepaths by any means, Arthur could see Alfred's thoughts written plainly across his face. Alfred obviously wanted him to help Amelia, no matter the consequences. There was a big part of Arthur that agreed, but still… He had seen what could happen. He'd experienced it.

"What are you doing?" Amelia demanded, crossing her arms. "Are you going to help me or what?"

Arthur turned towards her, explanations and apologies on his lips. And then he saw her face. She was pouting, wide blue eyes wet with tears, her small shoulders hunched. In that moment, Arthur stopped seeing Amelia. The child in front of him was the boy Alfred used to be, who depended on him and trusted him even though they weren't related. He blinked, and Amelia was back. The damage was done, though. There was no way he could refuse to help her now.

He sighed. "Amelia, sweetheart, I can fix your knees if you'd like."

The pout vanished immediately, replaced by a beaming grin that shone like the sun. "Yay!" She skipped across the last foot between them and sat down. "Do you have band-aids? Is that what you're going to fix them with?"

Alfred shook his, smiling, even as he laid one gloved hand on Arthur's shoulder and squeezed slightly to show his approval. "Artie's got something much better than band-aids."

The two of them continued to chatter away at each other as Arthur moved his hands up to hover above Amelia's knee. They really were alike, in much more than physical traits, he thought with a small smile. Magic flowed through his body, out through his fingertips, down into the lacerations in Amelia's skin. Her conversation with Alfred cut off abruptly as she felt them begin to heal.

"Are you one of them?" Amelia asked, eyes wide. "One of the magic people from the mansion?"

Arthur didn't look up as he nodded. The pastel colors of the magic continued to pour into her knees. "Does that bother you?"

"Of course not! This is so cool." The cuts were barely visible now. "Wow, I don't think-"

"Amelia!"

All three of them jumped, startled, and stared back through the trees at the woman running towards them. Judging by her hair color and the shape of her face, she was Amelia's mother. Arthur immediately pulled his hands away, a sense of dread coursing through him, but Amelia leaped to her feet and met her mother halfway. "Mommy, mommy, you have to come meet Mr. Arthur! He's really cool, and he-"

"He's a mutant," her mother spat, gathering Amelia into her arms. Her glare pierced Arthur's heart. "Honey, what did I tell you about associating with mutants?"

Amelia looked confused and worried. "Y-you said they were all bad, and gross, and that I shouldn't talk to them."

"Yes, I did. Now why are you talking to those freaks? Did they hurt you in any way? Oh, if they've touched you, I'll- I'll make them regret it!"

Arthur sank back to the ground, staring down at the grass in front of his feet. He knew those jeers and insults by heart. He'd heard them so many times before. Beside him, he felt Alfred shift until two strong arms wound around his body, and a pair of familiar lips murmured into his ear, "Don't listen to her. It doesn't matter. She doesn't know what she's talking about."

"No, no!" Amelia was protesting, pointing back at Arthur. "He didn't hurt me at all! He helped me. Look, he fixed my knees." She gestured down at the very thin scratches that Arthur hadn't had time to heal.

Her mother gasped. "You let him touch you?" She pulled Amelia tight to her side, her glare doubling in intensity. "How dare you touch my daughter, you disgusting freaks? She's just an innocent little girl! How could you try to corrupt such a sweet child? She's never done anything to you!" She spat on the ground in front of her. "You monsters should all be locked up and put to death. I can't believe the government is trying to help you!"

"Mommy, no-"

"You don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about," Alfred snarled, though he didn't remove his arms from around Arthur. "We didn't do anything to Amelia! All Arthur did was help her."

"That's what you say. How can I trust the word of a monster?" the mother sneered.

Alfred was halfway to his feet, growling, when Arthur reached out to grab his arm. "Stop," he murmured. His gaze hadn't moved from the ground, but his voice was steady. "She's not worth it."

"But, Arthur-"

Arthur finally looked up and met Alfred's eyes straight on. He shook his head. "She's not worth it," he said again.

Alfred stared at him for a moment, obviously searching his face for something, and then nodded. "Alright."

"Cowards." Amelia's mother pulled her protesting daughter into her arms and turned on her heel. Before she could walk out of earshot, though, she shouted back one last threat. "If I learn that you've come near my daughter ever again, I will make sure it's the last mistake you will ever-"

"Mr. Arthur, Mr. Alfred!" Amelia interjected, ignoring her mother's demands that she be quiet. "Thank you for helping me!" Even from this far away, and over her mother's shrill voice, they could hear her inner strength and willpower.

They waved at her until she had disappeared from sight. Arthur relaxed back against Alfred's broad chest. "She's going to be a beautiful woman someday."

Alfred nodded into his hair. "She will." He kissed Arthur's ear softly, then pushed himself to his feet and held out his hand to help Arthur up as well. "Everyone's waiting for us."

Arthur took the proffered hand, not speaking a word, and did not let go of it until they were safely inside the X-Jet. He ignored the questioning looks and words of his teammates, merely resting his head back against his chair and closing his eyes. Alfred's body was a warm, comforting presence beside him.

That settled it, thought Arthur as the jet began its descent to the Institute. He would tell Alfred everything.

Two hours later, after a dinner that Arthur had barely picked at, much to Alfred's obvious concern, Arthur found himself standing by the window of the living room. He was alone, both to his relief and unhappiness. Though it was the end of summer, and the air was still warm, he wrapped his arms around himself and fought not to shiver. This would be one of the hardest things he had ever done.

"Arthur?" He turned to see Alfred standing in the doorway. The younger mutant looked uncharacteristically nervous. "Hank said you wanted to talk to me about something."

"I did- I do." Arthur did his best to smile, but it felt wrong on his face, and it quickly slid off. He gestured towards one of the sofas. "Why don't we sit down?"

Alfred's anxiety seemed to grow, but he didn't argue. He sat down almost in the center of the couch. Arthur sat directly beside him, leaning heavily upon his shoulder, and he almost smiled at how quickly some of the tension in Alfred's body seemed to vanish.

"So? Alfred asked after a moment of silence.

Arthur sighed, looking down at his hands. "I- I want to tell you about me. About my past."

"You don't have to," Alfred said immediately. He cupped Arthur's face in his hands and stared down into his eyes. "If you don't want to, if you're not ready, I don't want to force you."

"No, you deserve to know. If we are going to continue with whatever this thing we have going, you need to understand who I am." Arthur drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. "It's not a happy story, from what I can remember, at least.

"I was born to a loving mother and father. They quickly discovered my… abilities, and though they took care to keep them hidden from the rest of the world, they loved me and kept me safe and happy. That all ended when I was four. My mother died in a car accident. My father did his best to keep caring for me, but he was lonely, and he soon began to date again. He met this woman. I can't recall her name- I've likely blocked it from memory because of what she did to me. From the very beginning, she did not like me at all, and neither did her sons. But she made my father happy, so I kept quiet when he married her. That was a mistake.

"Just after my sixth birthday, these men showed up at my house. They were dressed in thick armor, like horrible machines of some kind. I don't- I don't remember what happened then. All I know is that they took me away, and that I watched as they killed my father for trying to stop them."

Arthur's shoulders trembled slightly, and Alfred wound one arm around him, pulling them even closer together. The warmth that Alfred provided seemed to seep into Arthur's body. He relaxed a bit, but only a bit, before he swallowed heavily and continued.

"When I first met you, wandering around on the streets, I was twelve years old. Do you remember that?" Alfred nodded, though he didn't speak. "I had been homeless and alone for almost a year. And before that… I can barely recall any of what happened to me between when I was captured and when I escaped. I've blocked it all, repressed it until I can only remember bits and pieces, but I know that it hurt. It hurt so much. They did things to me, Alfred, that I can hardly remember and that I hope I never will.

"I was only a child. But they told me I was a monster, that I was disgusting and that I didn't belong in a world of humans, and for a long time I believed them. How could I not, when it was all they would say?" He drew in another deep breath, trying to ignore the hot tears building up in his eyes. "I was only a child."

But then he couldn't say anything more, because Alfred was kissing him, hard and desperate and sad and careful all at once. Arthur clung to the younger mutant like a lifeline. If he let go now, he knew he would drown in his own memories.

"You," said Alfred as he pulled away, staying so close that Arthur could feel every puff of breath against his lips, "are the most handsome, amazing guy I've ever met. You're not a monster."

Arthur chuckled lightly. "I know that now. Back when I was young it was a different story." He sighed and shifted so that he could lean his forehead comfortably against Alfred's, and allowed his eyes to slip closed. "It's simply that today, even after all those speeches about respect and decency and equality, when I heard that woman yelling all those horrible words, everything sort of flashed back before me. I know I should be happy about these changes in government policy and such, but I know better, Alfred. Atrocities are still going to happen."

"Hey now." Alfred kissed at the side of Arthur's lips, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck soothingly. "That's a little pessimistic, don't you think? I mean, don't get me wrong, I know things aren't just going to take an instant turn for the better. But it's a step in the right direction, you know? Every major change has to start somewhere."

"Optimistic as always," Arthur breathed, smiling even as he reached up to rub at his tear-filled eyes.

Alfred grinned at him, a little more subdued than usual, but no less warm. "You love me for it."

He hesitated for only a moment. "Yes," said Arthur. "I do."

"You- You do?" Alfred stared, wide-eyed. "You mean you love me?"

Arthur fought to keep a straight face, but that ridiculous, besotted smile that Alfred always seemed to inspire broke through. "Yes, I do," he said again. The words sent a warm, tingling shock down through his spine, and his silly smile grew even wider. "I love you."

Alfred stared at him for a few seconds more, and then Arthur was being practically tackled back into the cushions. "Oh thank god. I love you, too! Oh thank god." He lifted his head to grin at Arthur, so wide it looked like it would split his face in half. "I love you, I love you, Arthur."

Uncontrollable laughter bubbled up out of Arthur's throat as he rested there, part sitting, part laying down on the couch cushions, Alfred babbling stupid, romantic nonsense into his shirt and neck and cheek. He couldn't remember ever feeling so happy, not since he'd lived with his mother and father, not since he'd nearly raised Alfred and Matthew. He felt utterly foolish and pleasantly warm, and a lot like a teenager experiencing their first love. It was ridiculous- he was a thirty year old man, not a teenaged girl- but he couldn't help it. "I love you," he mumbled into Alfred's cheek. "I love you so much."

"Amelia was right," Alfred replied, pulling back slightly to beam down at Arthur. "Isn't that crazy? A little girl saw it all before we did."

"We're fools," agreed Arthur. That little ball of happiness within him was spreading out through his entire being. He wouldn't have minded just laying there for the rest of the night, clinging to one another, if it meant retaining this joy.

"Fools in love." Alfred shifted around until he could lean his head down against Arthur's collarbone. His hands stroked gentle paths up and down Arthur's sides, while Arthur's own fingers carded through the messy strands of Alfred's hair. They lay that way in warm, comfortable silence for a long while. Outside, night began to settle in.

Arthur was nearly asleep, the events of the day having worn him out far more than he'd thought, when Alfred spoke again. "Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

Alfred seemed to hesitate. "You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but… How did you escape? Back when you were little, I mean."

"To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure," Arthur replied after a moment of thought. "I may just have forgotten, but I think I had help. Someone helped me escape from that horrible place. I can't recall who." He paused, and then chuckled at himself. "My mind keeps telling me that it was the work of fairies. I suppose that's just the result of my imagination, though."

"Fairies, huh." Alfred smiled up at him. "Well, whoever it was, they have my thanks." He pressed a kiss to Arthur's neck and fell silent again.

The soothing motions of their hands, and the quiet rhythm of heartbeats and breathing, soon sent them both to sleep there on the living room couch. It was a peaceful, restful night, and probably the best sleep either of them had experienced in a while. Moonlight shone in through the window, other mutants, passed back and forth through the hallways, and they slept.

They didn't wake up until morning, when Logan shoved them off to watch the news.

* * *

><p>AN- Old update. This is the longest chapter of this fic so far.

This takes place about five months after the last one, so Arthur is now thirty and Alfred is about to turn twenty-seven. Amelia is Nyotalia!America- a young version, of course.

Okay, since I've had two messages about it now, I have to ask. Is this story really that confusing? It's a timeskip fic, based on prompts, just like so many others out there. I'm really, really surprised that people seem to find it so confusing. Please, let me know if it is!


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